Chronicles of Kin Roland 1: Enemy of Man (24 page)

“YOU seem to be sitting at a civilian table,” Randal said. He stared at
Becca, ignoring Kin completely.

Kin’s instincts screamed for action. Randal looked tough, but Kin thought he could shove the man’s head up his ass while fighting off his buddies at the same time. He felt waves of power surging through his muscles. For the first time in what seemed an eternity, he was facing an enemy not wearing superior armor or gifted with alien genetics designed for killing. He didn’t move. All the Shock Troopers but Randal stared at Kin and took positions around him.

“This is none of your concern, Randal. Leave it alone,” Becca said.

Kin liked her tone. She was confident. She took her time with each word and only glanced at the others.

“I thought you were one of us,” Randal said.

“I am,” Becca said.

“Then it’s my business.”

“Yeah? Well so is my foot up your ass if you don’t back off.”

Randal and Becca stared at each other. No one moved. After two minutes, Randal nodded at Kin but didn’t look at him. “Is this the man who let the Reaper escape?”

Becca didn’t answer.
Randal moved closer, whispering in her ear while looking over her shoulder in Kin’s direction. He gazed straight through Kin. Soldiers called it the thousand-yard-stare. “Now is not the time for getting involved with a local. This mission is a
turn and burn
and you know it.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Becca said.

Randal stepped back and smirked. “You look like you’ve known each other all your lives. How romantic. Maybe I should tell him who you really are. Would he still be interested if he knew what you did on Perilous IX?”

“If you ladies are going to fight, get to it,” Kin said.

Randal jerked his head toward Kin and started to move, but his attention shifted to several troopers entering the cafeteria. Orlan led the group to the food line, grabbed something with his hand, and began eating as he sauntered across the room toward Kin.

“I need you ready in ten minutes, Kin, by Commander Westwood’s authority. Report to the armory f
or gear,” Orlan said. He faced Randal. “Your brigade is now on perimeter defense, in Mechanized Armor.
Situation
: I will be hunting a Reaper that may attempt to breach our security.
Enemy forces
: one Reaper that possesses dangerous organic armor and a pack of wolves under his command.
Friendly forces
: me, Security Chief Kin Roland, and God if you pray hard enough.
Your mission
: observe the Reaper or other hostile forces as they approach our defensive line and destroy them. Understood?” Sergeant Orlan said, still holding a sandwich in one hand.

Randal nodded and started to move away. Orlan ate half the sandwich in one bite and spoke with his mouth full. “Acknowledge the order, lieutenant.”

“I acknowledge the Commander’s order, but not you, Sergeant,” Randal said, without looking back. “Becca’s Brigade, rally in the armory. We have a mission.” The Shock Troopers moved out of the room without touching their food.

“They named the brigade after you?” Kin asked.

“She won a bet,” Orlan said.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

Becca touched his arm like a brother and said, “I have to go. Be careful.”

Orlan offered Kin the last bite of his sandwich.

Kin studied the smashed food. “No, thanks.”

Orlan shrugged. “I’ll show you the way to the armory.”

When they arrived, technicians were already swarming around the Shock Troopers and their oversized armor that each operator had to climb into like a vehicle. Kin walked to the battered suit of assault armor that Orlan pointed toward. FSPAA was engraved on the chest plate. Nicks and grooves made the letters hard to read.

“Did you drag this to Crashdown?” Kin asked.

“Don’t be fooled. That’s a good unit. Holds battery power longer than most and the chest plate has never been penetrated. It’s the best I could secure,” Orlan said. He looked around for a technician.

Kin began putting the armor on.

Orlan laughed. “I forgot. You suit up by yourself.”

“When I need to.” Kin manipulated each piece carefully.

Orlan found a technician and was ready to go before Kin was done, but it was close.

Kin ran his systems checks. It had been a long time since he suited up, but everything came back as though he had been in the Fleet yesterday. “Where is the rest of your squad?”

“It’s just me and you this time. We can move faster,” Orlan said.

“Sure.”
Kin studied Orlan’s state of the art FSPAA. Maybe his old enemy planned treachery, maybe not. Being alone with Orlan didn’t give him a warm feeling.

They approached the loading bay. Orlan stepped beside him as they looked at a lull in the storm. “Take me to the Reaper. I have a million credits to collect. I’d have ten million if the Commander let me collect it.” He stared hard at Kin.

Kin held his gaze for a long moment, turned away, and charged from the ramp, just as he always had in the past. Most planetary assaults were airborne assaults, but sometimes they deployed from a landing craft, which was at least as dangerous. Often he had been delivered into the thick of battle. Stepping off the ramp was usually the most dangerous part. Enemies targeted troop carriers and the pilots lifted off too soon, burning troopers with the engines.

Droon wouldn’t be far from the Flagship, because Clavender was being held inside and the Reaper couldn’t let her go. Orlan paced Kin easily. His armor was newer and better repaired. Kin had no complaints. After so many years relying on naked strength, the armor gave him the feeling of extreme power and agility. The gravity of Crashdown had built muscles he might not have otherwise.

“Sound off when you find it. We’re taking it alive. Don’t forget,” Orlan said. The communication link between FSPAA units was scratchy. They were now in the eye of the storm.

Kin ignored the reminder. When he saw Droon, he’d kill it in the most expeditious manner possible. To do otherwise was to place the monster on the same ship as the people of Crater Town.

“Acknowledge, Kin. Disobey this order, and I’ll be talking about you when we get back to base.”

“I can hear you,” Kin said.

“You think the Commander is your friend, but he serves the Fleet, not your ego.”

“I don’t have friends, Orlan,” Kin said. They ran the perimeter defenses looking for sign of the Reaper and the Crashdown wolves. An hour passed. Without sunlight to charge the solar plates they
would need to stop in twelve hours, which was a problem because Kin thought it might take two days to find and isolate the Reaper.

“How long do we have before the first ship launch?” Kin asked.

“Not long.”

“We need to range farther from the perimeter,” Kin said. He led the way. Before long, they had cleared the area within a mile of the defensive perimeter around Crater Town and the Fleet ships. He looked back and saw
the Shock Troopers patrolling in mechanized war machines capable of killing dozens of Reapers in a direct fight. Becca was in that formation. He wondered which she was.

“They don’t look so big from here,” Orlan said.

“I thought you’d be a Shock Trooper by now.” Kin used his long-range scanners to view the foothills and the first mountain pass.

“Hard to be anonymous in a Mech unit.”

Kin looked sideways at Orlan.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m a show off. But sometimes you need to be anonymous to get dirty.” He laughed.

Kin shook his head and moved into the mountains. Orlan talked to him through the communications link.

“What do you think happened to us on Hellsbreach?”

“Is this a secure link?” Kin knew it wasn’t. The display inside his helmet indicated an open tactical channel.

“No,” Orlan said. “Switch to Direct Alpha. It’s a closed, line-of-sight link.”

Kin switched the channel and the static in his earpiece disappeared. “What kind of contact did you have with Reaper’s on Hellsbreach?”

They climbed a steep trail without out speaking. In a few moments they would be at the summit of the first pass with a cle
ar view of two valleys. Kin chose this route because it ran along the high ground and provided a view of lower areas. The new, smarter, more dangerous Droon would appreciate this advantage. Kin soon found the Reaper’s trail and began to follow, but didn’t alert Orlan. Not yet.

“I was never a prisoner of war like you, but I was wounded several times. Fleet scientists kept me in quarantine for a long time, but found nothing. They would’ve kept me locked up, once they realized I was different, but Fleet Command wanted a Hero of Man
to inspire bravery and loyalty in the troops. Now they can’t get rid of me.”

“So I heard,” Kin said. He surveyed the valley below, waiting for the mist to clear. The wormhole over the coast had grown eerily calm. He found himself looking back to see if it were a trick. Clavender spoke of the wormhole as though it were a living entity. Kin rejected the idea, but it still made him nervous. She also claimed the wormhole reached every corner of the universe. Perhaps there was only one wormhole anomaly connecting all places. Kin wondered if it reached through time as well, but banished the thought. Regret hurt too much. He didn’t need hope salting his wounds.

“You were messed up when we pulled you out of the Reaper den,” Orlan said. “My lieutenant wanted to drop you back in with an incendiary grenade fixed to your helmet. I talked him out of it. You owe me for that.”

“What happened to him?” Kin asked.

“He went crazy like every survivor of Hellsbreach.”

“Except you and me,” Kin said.

Orlan laughed.

The northern valley was divided by a wide, angry, river that twis
ted across the open field. Fog clung to the water and low areas, but fell away from the far side of the valley. What Kin saw changed everything. He assumed Droon was circling toward Clavender, but with a sinking feeling in his gut he realized the Reaper had led them into a trap.

Orlan stopped and stared. “What’s this? You better pray to God that the Commander doesn’t find you held this back.” He crouched next to Kin.

They stretched out on their stomachs and watched thousands of humanoid forms entering the valley from the mouth of the far pass. Bear’s Reapers were real, but Kin hadn’t expected them to move with such organization and purpose. He hadn’t expected them to carry advanced weapons and wear partial armor.

“Do the Imperials impress alien races into their army?” Kin asked. These were not the wild Reapers Bear had described.

“Yeah, and it looks like they hit the jackpot.”

“I see helmets, breastplates, and greaves,” Kin said.

“They wouldn’t wear boots,” Orlan said. “That would hinder their fucking talons. Those look like rifles they’re carrying.”

“Do you remember the flaming whips?” Kin asked. “Look at the leader of that squad.”

“Yep. All squad leaders have burning whips. My God, Kin, they’re organized into squads, platoons, and companies,” Orlan said. “Just like old times.”

“They were never organized. They were a horde. The weapons they used on Hellsbreach were an innovation, but they had no command and control, no discipline. They either learned from us, or someone taught them.”

Orlan snorted.

The bottom layer of storm clouds brushed over the mountain tops in every direction. Kin spotted the wormhole through a break in the cloud cover. It seemed to have stretched across the sky. The colors were thin, almost transparent. After a few seconds gazing at the sight, his eyes ached and he fought a growing sense of vertigo.

“You have a decision to make,” Kin said. “Follow Droon or report to Commander Westwood.”

Orlan gave him a hard look and considered his decision for a minute. “I’ll send a situation report over a secure connection. Wait here. I need to move down the trail and stand up for better reception. I don’t want you wandering off and I don’t want to be seen.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kin said.

“You should have told me you were on the Reaper’s trail. He led us into a trap.”

“I don’t think the trap is closed,” Kin said, though he wasn’t sure. The Reaper army was miles distant, but he didn’t feel safe.

Orlan returned a half hour later.

“Command and Control reports unidentified craft emerging from the wormhole in orderly formations,” Orlan said. “They are heading our direction.”

“I’ve never seen anything come through the wormhole in orderly formation,” Kin said. “Your assault didn’t take shape until well after units were inside the atmosphere and several ships never regained control.”

“Keep your eyes open. C & C says they are on the way and more are entering the atmosphere.”

Kin moved down the trail, following Droon’s nearly invisible tracks for as long as he dared. The footprints were never visible on stone or clay and he only found partial prints
on grass, gravel, and tundra. He recalled his first pursuit of Droon and remembered the Reaper had done nothing to obscure his movements. That had either been intentional or he was learning. Neither theory reassured Kin. Halfway down the mountain, Kin stopped and pointed at the last position of concealment.